


Wedded Bliss

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [109]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: He’s got a ring on his finger and Bryce has a ring on his finger and they’re married. So.Holy shit.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [109]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/849798
Comments: 26
Kudos: 341





	Wedded Bliss

It doesn’t feel quite real when he’s pronounced married, but the clash of Bryce’s mouth against his is as real as anything, the kind of kiss they’d never do in public, but — fuck it, Jared just laid his feelings out and _cried_ in public, he can kiss his fucking husband.

Jared’s hand is a little unsteady when he signs all the official papers, makes the marriage actually legal. He hopes that doesn’t like — invalidate their entire marriage. Probably not. He doubts he’s the first person to sign with blurry eyes, shaky hands. His mom and Elaine sign as witnesses, and Vivian signs as the officiant, and then it’s like. Done. Really done. He’s got a ring on his finger and Bryce has a ring on his finger and they’re married. So.

Holy shit. Like, Jared obviously knew what he was getting into, and the end point of a wedding is, oh, being married, but at the same time it feels just — immense. He can’t stop grinning, and every time he glances over at Bryce _he’s_ grinning, and when it’s all official his dad comes over and claps his back, red faced, like he was crying, and Jared can’t say anything because he probably looks exactly the same. Thank fuck there won’t be pictures.

Vivian heads out after they’ve signed all the necessary papers, shakes their hands. She offers her left, and Jared wonders if she’s left handed, or if she just likes doing that, shaking the hand with the new ring on it, a job well done.

“Thank you for your discretion,” Bryce says, and Jared doesn’t know whether it was Summers or Elaine who told him to say that, because it’s not really a Bryce statement. “We really appreciate it.”

“Have a great season, guys,” she says, and Jared’s all panicky, suddenly, wondering if she’s a fan, which team she’s a fan of, before realising like — maybe she is a fan, maybe she isn’t, no way to know. If he was her, signing a non-disclosure agreement, he’d be immediately looking up the names if he didn’t recognise them, wondering what made an NDA necessary in the first place. And even if she is a fan, she’s not going to snitch; like, she signed a binding contract that would open her up to being sued for everything she’s worth, and also she’d probably lose her marriage licence…thing or whatever. 

Besides, no Flames fan would be able to tell an Oiler to have a great season with a straight face.

Everyone’s taking pictures of each other when they get back after escorting Vivian out, and it’s kind of hilarious watching everyone doing the official wedding picture poses except like, him and Bryce. Elaine gets Bryce to take one of her and Jared’s family, another of all Bryce’s grandparents and her and Jared’s family. Jared doubts either of their agents would be happy knowing about those, but like, they could be at any event, Jared hardly thinks people would recognise Bryce’s grandparents or his family by sight like they might do with Elaine, and they’ve all promised not to put anything on social media, so who cares. Jared doesn’t want to upset Elaine by being the photo police. It’s technically their day or whatever, but it’s hers too. Your only child getting married is kind of a big deal.

“Smile, sweetheart,” Elaine says, phone aimed at him.

“Bryce’s agent said—” Jared says. He’s not going to be the photo police about anyone else, but them? Photo police role accepted.

“No one’s going to look at a picture of you standing alone in a tux and say, ‘hey, he must have been getting married to a man who plays for his rival team’,” his mom says dryly, which — fair point. Hell, it’s not even the first time Jared’s worn a tux this year.

Jared smiles.

“A real smile,” Elaine says.

“This is a smile!” Jared says. 

“More of a grimace,” his mom says, and Elaine hums agreement. This is unfair. He’s being teamed up on.

“Bear, come here for a sec? I need a favour,” Elaine says, and Bryce immediately stops mid-conversation with Chaz and Ash and _trots_ over, like the momma’s boy he is. Ridiculous.

Jared blinks when Elaine’s phone goes off. “Much better,” she says. “Thanks, honey.”

“I didn’t —” Bryce says, sounding confused, and Jared shrugs at him.

“Send me that?” his mom asks.

“Of course,” Elaine says. “Bear, smile for me?”

Bryce doesn’t get told to do a ‘real’ smile, but then, Bryce nails it on the first try.

Everyone keeps milling around outside, which might be nice for them, but Jared’s in a tux, and it’s stinking hot out. He wants air conditioning, and to wear something a little more comfortable, and honestly, just to be alone with Bryce. Like, he loves pretty much everyone there, and the people he doesn’t know well enough to love he knows _Bryce_ loves, but he’d love for them all to just — disappear for a minute.

Jared catches Bryce’s eye, gets a hopeful look in response. Jared is on his wavelength. Totally happy to be on that wavelength. _Give me five minutes_ he texts Bryce, because subtlety is a good thing, and someone would probably notice if they both disappeared at the same time and, depending on the person, either give them shit or be appalled, so. Bryce pulls out his phone before nodding at him and peeling off towards the bunk house.

“Where’re you going?” his mom asks when Jared excuses himself four and a half minutes later, complaining he’s boiling in his suit and he needs to change.

“Changing, I literally just said,” Jared says.

“Your bag’s in our room,” his mom says.

“So?” Jared says.

“Don’t you need clothes to change?” she asks. Which. Okay, yes, the bunk house does not have his bag, that is true.

“Oh yeah,” Jared says. “I’ll grab it.”

“You can change in our room,” she says.

“Oh no, that’s cool, I—”

She narrows her eyes. “Be back in five minutes or I’m finding you.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Jared says. “I’m a _married man_.”

“A married man who is not going to leave his own party,” she says. “I can still ground you.”

“No you can’t,” Jared retorts, but he doesn’t actually want to push her into proving she can — she totally would — so he trudges to his parents’ room, texts Bryce while he changes into shorts and a t-shirt, and finds a downtrodden Bryce, also in shorts and a t-shirt, outside. He’s nodding along to something Erin’s saying, but like, sadly. 

Jared wants to bite the slight jut of his pouting bottom lip but he has to wait and that’s not _fair_.

Suddenly he understands the appeal of the whole kissing whenever people clink their glasses thing. It always sounded like absolute hell to him, PDA on steroids, but any excuse to kiss Bryce sounds good.

But, then, fuck it. He doesn’t need excuses. They’re literally all at his and Bryce’s wedding, who’s going to complain about a little kissing?

“Hey,” Bryce says, wrapping an arm around him when he comes over, mouth surprised against Jared’s when he kisses him, but only for a second before he’s kissing back.

“Okay, no,” Erin says. “Stop.”

Bryce is grinning when Jared pulls back, and Jared gives into the urge to kiss him again.

“Dad!” Erin whines, which is officially a damper on the mood. If there’s ever a time Jared will get over the mortification of his dad knocking on the car window the first time Jared got a hand on Bryce’s dick, well — he’s not over it yet. 

Jared pulls back reluctantly. 

“What was that for?” Bryce asks.

Jared shrugs. “Marrying me?” he says.

“Okay, no,” Erin repeats, and stalks off, which Jared takes as an excuse to kiss Bryce again.

*

Jared hasn’t been to a wedding since he was a kid, but he’s read a hell of a lot of wedding blogs in the last few months, so he knows their reception dinner isn’t exactly traditional. Like, it’s small, for one, and there aren’t any speeches, and everyone’s sitting at the same table — well, two tables shoved together. The catering company provided all the food and equipment, but Bryce’s agent made a fuss about any of the staff being there, and so they’re just serving themselves in the kitchen, buffet style, while his dad stands by the counters and loudly tells everyone what’s in every dish, like he made it all himself instead of just following the instructions they left.

Also, Jared is pretty sure at a normal wedding, him and Bryce would get first crack at the food, but nope, he’s got to wait in line like everyone else even though he’s starving. Julius won’t let Jared butt in front of him, all ‘just because you’re married now doesn’t make you special’. Julius is the fucking worst. Jared can’t believe he even invited him.

Jared kicks the back of Julius’ ankle while he waits. Bryce is already eating, because _Chaz_ isn’t a jerk, and _Chaz_ let the fucking groom go ahead of him.

“Stop kicking me,” Julius says without turning around.

Jared kicks him again.

“Susan,” Julius says, too low for Jared’s mom to hear, but if he says it any louder, which is the implied threat, she’s definitely going to hear it. 

Jared stops kicking him before he snitches. He’s still worried about this so called grounding ability.

Bryce is almost finished his plate when Jared sits down beside him, but he goes for seconds, Jared requesting more green beans, because he ate all of his right away. Jared’s got to admit the cost of the catering was worth it: if the Oilers had food this good on hand, Jared would not have trouble keeping the weight on. Opposite problem, actually. 

While Bryce is foraging for them Jared hears his name from a few seats away, which, not weird, but the way his name is being used is _evil_.

“So Jared’s like ‘I’ve never hated someone more in my life’ and ‘what a stupid flashy car Bryce Marcus has, don’t you hate Bryce too, Raf, I hate him so much that I can’t stop talking about him’ and ‘how dare Bryce Marcus say a single word to me, doesn’t he realise how much I loathe him, that handsome bane of my existence’, and he’s blushing bright red every time Bryce walks within ten feet of us, and—”

“None of this is true!” Jared says over Grace’s head. “This is lies and slander and you need to stop talking to my sister!”

“So Bryce asks Jared to go for a ride—” Raf says, rudely ignoring him, while Erin only spares Jared enough attention to flash him an absolutely shit eating grin that tells him she is never, ever going to quit using this story as ammunition. “And it’s obvious he’s asking Jared on a date, or at least obvious to me, but Jared is just completely oblivious, keeps going on about how Bryce is going to kill him and dump the body, while Bryce is just…longingly looking at him from across the rink—”

Jared refuses to continue to listen to these lies and slander. Except the longing looks. Those probably happened, not that he noticed at the time.

“Don’t worry,” Bryce says, when Jared finds him in the kitchen. “I got like, all the green beans.”

“Raf’s telling my sister lies about us,” Jared says, and when Bryce wraps an arm around his waist with his free hand, Jared leans into it, grabbing some green beans off his plate and hiding from the slander until Elaine comes into the kitchen and tells them to quit hiding because it’s time to cut the cake.

There are two little grooms holding hands on top of the cake, and it’s borderline too cute for Jared, but he knows it was either Bryce or Elaine who picked them, so no way is he saying anything.

They do not feed each other cake when they cut it. That’s stupid. Jared can eat cake all by himself. He eats vanilla cake, and Bryce eats chocolate cake, and Julius eats a slice of each, so obviously he’s over the cupcake disappointment.

“More frosting on cupcakes,” Julius grumbles when Jared points that out. 

“You can have as many cupcakes as you want when _you_ get married,” Jared says. 

Julius wrinkles his nose at him, and Jared wrinkles his right back.

*

It’s a nice night out, and they’ve got a giant yard with a fire pit, so after cake everyone starts drifting outside. The mosquitoes are vicious, but Elaine thought to pack like, a billion bottles of bug spray, so they’re set. She packed marshmallows and hot dogs too, because she clearly thought of everything. Gordie gets the fire pit going, and it all feels very kid’s summer camp, everyone sitting around the fire, though there’s probably a little more beer and wine than there usually is. Not that Jared would actually know; he did go to camp as a kid, but only hockey camps, and none of them were sleepover ones. The sitting around a fire thing is new to him; never did traditional camps, never went to other kid’s cottages, never swam in a lake, any of those things that are supposedly universal childhood stuff, that he was too busy playing hockey to do.

He’s not complaining. He’s literally _in the NHL_ , making more money than he knows what to do with, playing with the best; his Calder winning linemate carefully turning a hot dog across the fire, his superstar _husband_ blowing frantically on an on-fire marshmallow. Not a single word of complaint from him right now.

There’s chirping, though. Bryce can’t even roast a _marshmallow_ without burning it, of course Jared’s going to chirp the shit out of him.

Not long after the grandparents all head inside Bryce yawns loudly, and it might be partly genuine — the fire’s making Jared feel kind of drowsy himself, and it’s been a long day — but it’s also patently a cue, one Jared is absolutely taking. 

“I think we’re going to turn in,” Jared says.

Chaz, who clearly needs to be cut off, lets out a loud whoop and starts applauding. Before Jared can murder him — there’s still _family_ around, Erin is a _teenager_ — Raf elbows him in the side, hard, and Chaz quits making noise, unless you count pathetic moaning as a noise. 

Raf is forgiven for spreading lies to Erin. He’s the only friend of Jared’s that isn’t the absolute worst.

Well. And Bryce. Bryce is the best. But he’s also like, his husband, so.

Jared’s face honestly aches from all the smiling he’s done today, but he’ll deal.

Bryce insists on holding hands on the walk up to the bunk house, saying that it’s dark, and there’s stuff they could trip over, and it’d be disastrous if one of them broke an ankle.

“You can hold my hand just because you want to, you know,” Jared says. “I figure that’s like — marital rights or something.”

“We _could_ trip,” Bryce argues, and Jared snorts and squeezes his hand.

They don’t quit holding hands once they’re inside — what’s Bryce worried about, rogue floorboards? — but Jared’s more interested in fucking his husband than chirping him some more, and it’s not like he _minds_ holding hands with him.

His and Bryce’s room is a lot smaller than the one his parents are staying in, but it’s not sharing a wall with any other bedroom, down a hall past the living room, tucked away from the rest of the place. It’s got its own bathroom and a queen bed, and that is more than enough for their purposes.

Jared’s glad they changed out of their tuxes hours ago. It’s way easier to shove your hand down a pair of shorts. And Bryce’s ass looked amazing in the tux, but looking at it’s got nothing on copping a feel while you make out like teenagers.

Jared’s pretty cool with just doing this for a while, now that he’s finally got the chance to kiss his husband as much as he wanted to all day, but said husband is not agreeable.

“If you don’t get your dick in me—” Bryce says, pulling his shirt off and kicking out of his shorts and underwear like they’re on a tight schedule.

“Fuck, okay,” Jared says. Fucking his husband works for him too, so he follows Bryce’s lead on the stripping, getting a little sidetracked by kissing him some more, but with added nudity, until Bryce shoves at his shoulder and frowns at him, like Jared’s being difficult. Apparently the dick agenda is time sensitive.

“Is the lube in your bag, or did you unpack it?” Jared asks.

Bryce stares at him.

“What?” Jared says.

“You didn’t bring lube?” Bryce says.

“No?” Jared says.

“You _forgot lube_?” Bryce hisses.

“I dunno, I didn’t think of it,” Jared says. “Like, you brought so much stuff up the night before, why didn’t _you_ pack lube?”

“I couldn’t!” Bryce says. “My mom packed everything!”

“Well how the hell was I supposed to know that?” Jared says. “You couldn’t have sent me a text or something?”

“I figured you’d have thought of it!” Bryce says. “Fuck, Jared.”

Jared bites his lip.

“Are you laughing?” Bryce asks.

“No,” Jared says, and bites his lip harder.

“This isn’t funny,” Bryce says, more than a little sulkiness in his voice.

“Our first fight as a married couple is about lube,” Jared says.

Bryce looks away.

“It’s kind of funny,” Jared says. “Admit it.”

“No,” Bryce says, but Jared can see his mouth curling up.

“‘I can’t believe you’re not going to fuck me in the ass on my own wedding night!’” Jared says, and can’t help laughing outright when Bryce shoves his shoulder. “‘I want a divorce!’”

“Fuck off,” Bryce says, half laughing, then laughs for real when Jared pokes his side where he knows he’s ticklish, squirming away.

“Still love me even though I forgot the lube?” Jared says.

“I guess,” Bryce says, but he’s so bad at longsuffering that it just comes out soft. Jared wouldn’t put it past Elaine to have packed lube — she packed everything else in the world, it seems like, plus she specifically chose their room for sex privacy purposes — but there is absolutely no way in the world Jared is asking her. Or leaving this room, period.

“Would you accept an apology blowjob?” Jared says. 

Bryce considers. “You’re fucking me when we get back home, though.”

“Duh,” Jared says. “I have zero plans to leave our bed until I have to go back to training. Maybe with food breaks.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Bryce says through a yawn.

“Wow, the romance is dead already,” Jared says. “Am I keeping you awake, Marcus?”

“Suck my dick, Matheson,” Bryce says, and Jared takes it in the spirit it’s intended.

The ensuite bathroom works pretty damn well for clean up after, since they kind of made a mess — Jared swallowed, but then he immediately undercut the neatness of that by coming on Bryce’s chest. Jared’s honestly so grateful they don’t have to creep through the halls, hastily dressed, possibly run into a poor scandalised grandparent or like, Chaz, who’d applaud again.

Jared was kind of expecting they’d be up like, half the night, but he’s wiped when they crawl back into bed, and Bryce is yawning again, so he guesses they’ll save the fucking on every surface for the couple days of honeymoon they’ve got before they get back to training. Jared will stow bottles of lube everywhere. Beside the couch. In the bathroom cabinet. Hell, in the spare room, in case they’re too lazy to change the sheets on their bed. Not the kitchen though, that’s gross.

Jared has to get up to hit the lights — they played rock-paper-scissors for it and Bryce lost but then he looked so dejected Jared got up anyway — Bryce plastering himself against Jared when he gets back under the covers. It’s too hot to sleep skin to skin, but for now, it’s fine. 

“Thanks for marrying me,” Bryce murmurs.

There are so, so many sarcastic responses on Jared’s tongue. So many. And Jared’s sure that Bryce is expecting one, wouldn’t mind, would probably even laugh. But like. He doesn’t want to say any of them. And if there’s any time he can be like, unselfconsciously sappy, he thinks his wedding night probably qualifies.

“It was my privilege,” Jared says, cheeks heating anyway, because apparently nope, there is no time that he can be unselfconsciously sappy up to and including his wedding night, but the smile on Bryce’s face, small and sweet and almost shy, the way it lingers when Jared kisses him, well, it’s worth any embarrassment Jared feels.


End file.
